


There's Only One Good Use for Ugly Neckties

by Xyriath



Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Marvel (Comics), Young Avengers
Genre: Completely Indulgent Pairings, DC/Marvel crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-21
Updated: 2013-04-21
Packaged: 2017-12-09 02:14:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/768796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xyriath/pseuds/Xyriath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hint: it involves bedposts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's Only One Good Use for Ugly Neckties

Tommy could feel his lips curl upwards in a smirk as he sipped the wine, pale eyebrows raising as he peered over the rim of the glass. He took his sweet time finishing the drink; after all, Doctor Thomas Elliot had fine taste in wine.  It would be criminal to waste.

“It’s a good look for you,” he murmured as he set the empty glass on the bedside table.  His movements were slow, controlled.  It was near torture, slowing himself down this much, but the look on the doctor’s face was absolutely worth it.

Tommy Elliot didn’t say anything.  Tommy Shepherd wasn’t sure if that was because he was too overwhelmed, or if he was refusing to speak out of spite.

Well, Tommy reflected.  It was the man’s fault for owning these ties.

Tommy really wasn’t sure _how_ he had obtained such ghastly articles of clothing.  He had met the man’s fashion consultant and deemed him acceptable, if now somewhat obsolete with Tommy’s involvement in the doctor’s life.  He _certainly_ hoped that Tommy Elliot didn’t _wear_ them.  Regardless, two of them were now put to a far more acceptable use.  He had tied one to each end of the headboard, their lengths stretched taut, each of then ending in a firmly tied knot looped around each of Tommy Elliot’s wrists.  The man was sprawled out on his back, head propped up on the pillows.

“You look good like this,” he murmured, still smirking.  This only earned him a venomous glare.

“When I get loose, you’re not going to be able to speak for a week,” the other man snarled.

“Lookin’ forward to it, gorgeous.”  He reached a finger out to trace it sideways, lightly, up Tommy’s side, brushing lightly over his ribs.  At the shudder that rippled over the skin, Tommy withdrew his hand.

“You listen to me, you little shit—”

“I don’t think so.”  Tommy’s hand shot out to grip the inside of the other Tommy’s thigh.  At the resulting groan, he made a tutting noise.  “I would have thought you’d’ve learned patience by now.”

The doctor opened his mouth, eyes narrowed, but whatever he was about to say, Tommy cut it off by hoisting his leg over the man’s thighs, straddling him and grinding their crotches together.  Tommy smirked again at the sound of the long, low groan that tore its way free of Tommy Elliot’s throat.

Tommy spread his hands, one on each side of the doctor’s stomach, fingertips on his ribs and thumbs nearly meeting over his navel.  He slid his hands down, breath catching at the sensation of the slight shivering underneath his hands.  He stopped after a few moments, heels of his palms paused right where the waistband of Tommy’s slacks ended, his thumbs toying with the ginger trail of hair that disappeared beneath that waistband.  Just a few inches below, a noticeable bulge strained against the front of the slacks.  It had been there for quite a while, much to Tommy Elliot’s consternation and Tommy Shepherd’s satisfaction.  He felt Tommy Elliot buck his hips in a futile attempt to get _some_ contact on his erection, but Tommy Shepherd’s thighs were too far back for that.

Tommy “tsked” this time, tightening his hands on the man’s sides.  He marveled for a moment at the tension of the muscles under the skin, the strained, coiled potential sending a jolt of arousal straight down to his dick.  _That_ was straining too, so tightly against his jeans that it was almost painful.  He hadn’t come yet, though; had made sure he wouldn’t.  The cock ring he was currently wearing, surreptitiously slipped on and concealed from Tommy Elliot, took care of that little problem he always had with coming quickly and frequently.  It wasn’t usually a bad thing, but it simply wouldn’t do in this situation.

And now the man was _too_ quiet.  Tommy couldn’t have that.  He scooted forward a bit, rolling his hips, grinding against the other man.  At the moan, he smirked again, beginning to drag his erection against the other man’s in a slow, deliberate rhythm.

“You really need to calm down,” he murmured conversationally, though he had to focus for a moment to keep the shake from _his_ voice.  “It’s unbecoming of a man of your status and year—”

They both jumped at the sound of a loud buzzing.  For a moment Tommy thought it was one of the vibrators that had started up somehow—which Tommy still didn’t think he would be able to get away with trying yet, along with fucking the other man, though that day was coming—but a moment later it paused, then started buzzing again.

Tommy pressed his lips together.  That stupid Blackberry, probably with a call forwarded from the office.  It had interrupted the two of them too many times for Tommy not to hate it, calling in “Gotham’s greatest surgeon” for something-or-other in the middle of the night, or rescheduling an appointment with a middle-aged woman who was afraid of aging to a time that was supposed to be _theirs._   At least now, Tommy Elliot couldn’t get to it—

Although, it could still be useful for a couple of things.

Tommy Elliot hadn’t even had time to register that the phone was ringing before it was in Tommy Shepherd’s hand.  The latter didn’t, however, answer the phone immediately.  He wanted Tommy to see it and realize _exactly_ what he was about to do.

It worked.  The man’s eyes widened and he lurched forward, only to be yanked back again, ties keeping him firmly in place.

“Don’t you _dare_ , you little slut—”

Tommy just smirked and slowly, deliberately, pressed the button with the green phone on it, putting on his best receptionist voice.

“Doctor Thomas Elliot’s phone.  How may I help you?”

“Oh.  Ah…”  The man on the other end paused, potentially taken aback at the unfamiliar voice.  “I was hoping to speak with him.  Is he available?”

“I’m afraid not.  He’s a bit tied up at the moment.  ”  He smirked down at the man between his legs.

“I’m going to fucking _kill_ —” he hissed, but quieted when Tommy pressed an index finger to his lips, mouthing “ _shhh_ ” at him and leaning down, his face nearly meeting Tommy’s.  The man quieted _very_ quickly.  Wait—was he holding his breath, to keep the man on the other end from hearing him?

He _was._   Tommy couldn’t help but find that sickeningly cute.

“I can take a message, if you’d like, and have him call you back.  Or you could try back later.  Perhaps in a few hours?”  Though Tommy’s tone was businesslike, his expression was anything but as he tilted his head slightly and leaned in the last couple of inches, pressing their lips together lightly.  It was technically a kiss, but the amount of pressure barely made it one, though Tommy Elliot’s eyelids fluttering shut definitely helped.

“No, no message.  I needed to reschedule—you said he would be available in a few hours?”

“He should.  Tomorrow, as well, definitely.”  Tommy Shepherd felt his lips brushing against Tommy Elliot’s as he spoke.

“All right.  I’ll be sure to call him then.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  Have a nice day.”  Tommy absently heard the words, but he didn’t register saying them, since he was far too busy studying the planes and sharp angles of the face in front of him.

He pulled the blackberry away from his ear, sitting up and hitting the red button.  Glancing at the phone distastefully, he pressed the power button and tossed it off the bed.

“I _am_ going to make you pay for that,” came for the snarl from below him.

“Yeah, okay.”  Tommy sighed, looking down at the man almost mournfully.  “A shame, though.”

The suspicion in Tommy’s face couldn’t have gotten any worse if he had tried.  “What’s a shame?”

“Well, what with the phone call and you mouthing off at me, I’ve completely lost track of where I was.”  Tommy scooted backwards so that he was straddling right above his knees.  “I guess I’m just going to have to start _all_ over again.”

Tommy Elliot let out a snarl at the fingers slowly tracing up the inside of his thigh.  “ _Fuck_ you!”

“Mm.  Not with _that_ attitude,” Tommy hummed happily before getting back to work.


End file.
